Wednesday, August 19, 2009

august

You come around like
The high low chorus of secadas
In august
Their bouncy buzzing
Rises in intensity
Its melody leaves an imprint
In the silence
Replaced by the wind of nightfall
That blow the strands of hair
From my face
You are like the promise of summer
the adrenalin of a cliff jump
And the fear of an untouched
mountain peak
In solitude I guide myself
Towards you
I miss you like a vivid dream I can't remember

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